My Name On Your Heart
by retina burn
Summary: OutlawQueen. Regina and Robin share an intimate moment by the firelight, and Regina discovers the scars Robin carries from his entanglement with the Dark One many years ago.


"How did this happen?"

Her thumb traces the edge of the scar on his flank. It's so palpable in the firelight, their naked bodies entangled together because she's starting to let herself think that being apart from him is something she simply can't tolerate for long stretches of time.

_How did it come to this? _

He shouldn't be _here_, stubbornly refusing to capitulate to the darkness retaining its grip on her soul. Yet every time the specter of her past burns across the thin facade of her heart, she can _feel _Robin there fighting for her. He's nestled inside of her, the truth of his love a panacea for the pain of living with what she's done.

Being with him is the first time she's entertained the thought that she can learn to _live_ with it, rather than run from it.

"It doesn't matter," he murmurs, snagging that hand and kissing her knuckles, evidently in some sort of attempt to distract her from her original line of questioning.

"It matters to me," she insists, not allowing him to be evasive.

Her hand is now cradled within his, and his eyes lower as his thoughts drift to memory for a moment.

In the silence that lingers, Regina can't help reflecting on the strong curve of his jawline, the eyes that dance with laughter when he smiles, the way his kisses are a trail of light leading her home, and his arms are eternal refuge and warmth when the winter of her heart encroaches.

"The Dark One," Robin tells her. "Many years ago, I stole from him, to save Marian and our unborn child."

She knows he holds no regrets, and would do it again if it meant saving the people he loves. She knows that his own welfare matters little to him, which is precisely why it matters so much _more_ to her.

Once the declaration is made, though, the frown on her face is dark and labyrinthine, knotting her lips and creasing her forehead with tension. Of course that imp did this. It seemed he would be an indelible shadow stitched into every aspect of her life, affecting even the people she hadn't known when she'd been under his tutelage.

"I could have healed this, if I'd been there," she muses, and she doesn't know _why_, because the timing would have been all wrong. He was married, expecting his son, and she was the shadow on a land that hope abandoned.

_Too much scar tissue now. _

Even though she loves him - she knows she does - there's just _too much_.

But her fingers still trace the scar, and then she shifts to press her lips to it, wondering if there's something love can do, where magic might fail.

"I don't want it to go away," Robin soothes. His hand cradles her cheek, coaxing her to look at him, to really see the sincerity of his words. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Why? If I _could_ take it away...why would you keep this? It's not a good memory."

He smiles, yet somehow manages not to be patronizing when he does. There's only understanding there, as his other hand cradles her right cheek, pulling her to his lips.

"It's part of me," he explains simply. "What I did then served a purpose, and I have no regrets over my actions. I saved Marian, for a time, and I saved my child. In ways I can't begin to fathom, what I did then eventually brought me to you, made our paths cross, and I can only ever feel gratitude for that."

Her eyes glisten suspiciously, and she takes a deep breath to keep her composure from falling away.

She still can't believe, after they've done this so many times, how amazing it feels to have their bare skin pressed together, and she lays flat on top of him now, her chest pressed to his, her body completely covering that blemish. In a strange way, that scar - the visible evidence of his torture at the hands of the Dark One - is a victory, it's proof of love, and how _good_ actually can endure against terrible things.

For a long time, she'll need that reminder, so maybe it is wise not to try and take it away, to simply have it there to look at, to dote on, to assure her.

She seeks out the taste of him now, her tongue gliding against his, silently telling him that nothing will ever matter more than this, than what they have here together, every nerve ending clamoring with joy because their bodies are unified, like they always should have been. Their souls have found their way back to each other, after a necessary absence.

She didn't deserve him, once, but she's trying to earn it now.

"It feels quite good when you do that," Robin murmurs, when he pulls back to catch his breath.

A wicked grin supplants that frown on her face, and her fingers curl more tightly around the length of him, always amazed to know that she's responsible for this, that her touch alone tugs that aroused groan from his mouth, and she can't resist kissing those lips, wanting to know what his pleasure tastes like when he makes those sounds.

This feels good, she won't deny that, but above all, it's healing. Neither of them can erase the past, but they can vanquish the demons from it that still haunt the more fragile bones of their hearts. They are stronger because of moments like this, and every moment yet to come when their veins throb with the esoteric song of their love.

It's selfish, maybe, but she needs him to fill her up, and after just a moment of stroking her thumb back and forth across the tip of him, Regina takes him inside of her, straddling him, but laying close. The position is slightly awkward, and she wants to pull back and ride the pleasure he's already giving her, yet is unwilling to lose this closeness.

As if sensing her thoughts, Robin suddenly shifts and sits up, the movement swift, yet precise, and their bodies remain connected as their legs wrap around one another. With them both sitting up, their chests are still pressed together, and she's coherent enough to focus on caressing that scar of his as their bodies move rhythmically, lips and tongues tangling until neither can forfeit their breath anymore.

The moment after her climax, Regina thinks about her own heart, with all its scars, the light fighting against the blackness. She used to think she would never have this, because she would never deserve it, those ugly scars bespeaking of tragedy and terror. Now she thinks - she _thinks _- it actually augments this happiness now. The love she has with Robin is stronger _because_ her heart has ached for so long, and the love encompassing it now is something protective, enduring, and tender in a way it wouldn't have been years ago.

As Robin lays back down on the ground, catching his breath and stroking his fingers through her hair, Regina kisses his chest, loving the way her name tastes on _his_ heart.


End file.
